


woven with scales and shadows

by tonberrys



Series: Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Season 6 [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cursebreaker Headcanon, Dragons, Gen, Old Magic, POV Bill Weasley, POV Charlie Weasley, POV Third Person, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 08:50:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15726033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonberrys/pseuds/tonberrys
Summary: When Charlie runs into trouble investigating rumours of a dragon egg hidden away in an ancient tomb, Bill - along with family friend (and Healer) Hestia - rush in to retrieve him, finding Charlie in quite a different state than they expected.





	woven with scales and shadows

_( -but in the shadows, it waited. )_

Darkness stretched out like a gaping maw, ink-black and sticky as it filled the air. Clinging to the darkness was a heavy sort of stillness, stale with the passage of decades—centuries—centuries more, yet a steady beat of echoing footsteps disrupted the dusty silence, slow and hollow. Like a single star plucked from the night sky, a brilliant white glow trickled out from the tip of a wand, casting its subtle glow against ancient stone and the freckled face of its owner.

Silhouetted before him was the faintest outline of a rectangular box, clear and veined with runic symbols flecked in gold. Stepping closer, he could see the dark shape of an egg nestled atop a cupping pedestal, rising no higher than his waist. Behind it was a sarcophagus, dark in colour and infinitely less interesting than the accompanying treasure.

Anticipation thrummed erratically in his chest. No handle or latch could be found on the smooth surface of the box or its square top-hatch, but a flick of his wand sprung it open with a quiet squeak and a clink.

“Vinn! I think I-” His fingertips brushed the scaly surface, heat burning the pads and blazed through his body as a dizzy roar raged against his skull. He tried to look at his arms, now prickling with some terrible itch, but he could not tell if the black spots were on his arms or behind his eyes.

Distantly, he heard a call from behind him— _C h a r l i e_ —but as his hands curled in on themselves, that call morphed into a startled scream, and his mind slipped into the black.

* * *

_( -so to the shadows, we shall descend. )_

The wind whistled a sharp, tuneless song as it cut against the edges of the cliff and tickled his ears, but Bill Weasley stared ahead with unchipped purpose. A sprawling forest stretched out below, painting the scenery with a limitless swath of green spanning off to the left. To the right was another cliff, and flush against it was a slit of paler stone peeking up above the treetops.

“That’s it, then?” Beside him, a young woman leaned forward over the edge to squint at their presumed tomb. Concentration knit her brow as she swiped the dark fringe of her hair out of her eyes, then immediately wiped that same hand on her robes. “You said Charlie might be in there?”

“According to his friends, yes.” Bill was also peering out into the forest, freckles bunching up around the wartime scars lining his face. “You sure you’re up for this, Hes? I know that a tomb in Romania is pretty far from the pristine halls of St. Mungo’s.”

“If he’s hurt, better to have a Healer on hand,” Hestia returned with a thin smile.

Too many times, that same sentence had wormed its way into conversation, peppered through a war that had torn through the wizarding world with merciless strikes. There was no other Healer he’d rather see—a familiar face, though the Order of the Phoenix had long disbanded—but no matter how much he trusted her commitment to their rescue mission, he stubbornly steeled his insides to avoid the lurch of worry. Years later, the unofficial help of a Healer still had its place, but this time, it was because his impulsive brother heard ‘ancient dragon egg’ and thought ‘I should touch that’ instead of ‘I should call for my cursebreaking brother to make certain it’s safe.’ Bill wanted to indulge the flash of exasperation, but the emotion consistently chilled to a cold drip of concern every time he tried.

Hestia braced under his hand when he grasped her shoulder, and with a synchronised _pop_ , they apparated across the expanse and landed on the roof, tipped down at a stomach-dropping angle.

“Bit of a leap of faith, isn’t it?” Hestia said, stiff as a stone despite her shaky laugh. Below her feet, a slab shifted, and she swallowed a yelp, grabbing a branch with white knuckles.

Bill forced a tight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.“This is probably the least scary thing about today, if his friends have any skill for description. I know you’re worried about him too, but you don’t have to force it.”

“Just let me chitter; I’ll be fine,” she insisted with a bracing smile in return.

Following a short series of quick-footed thumps, Bill was secure on the ground. Hestia’s movements were slower and more calculated, but he had to commend her efforts. When the vine she was clutching came loose halfway down, he wondered for a flash whether she’d need to use her healing prowess on herself, but she regained her footing quite admirably for the next two levels.

Looking over the intricate runes covering the stone door, Bill wasn’t surprised about the reports of interest piquing amongst wayward muggles. More often than not, muggles had all the interest in runes but lacked the benefit of a magical education to interpret them, but after a quick spell to reveal the presence of curses, he could at least conclude that this door was unlikely to have damaged any of those muggles in a lasting capacity. They warned more in the way of despair than dragons, but Bill expected his younger brother had not stopped to read the runes when the rumours reached his ears.

“What’s the strategy?” Hestia asked him as he pulled open the heavy door with a harrowing creak. “Is there anything in here with him?”

“One of his friends saw him with the egg, but apparently the room closed itself off shortly after. None of them mentioned anything else, but it’s hard to say.” Bill shook his head, the dread heavy in his stomach as he lit his wand and strode first into the tomb. Dust was thick in the air, looking and smelling as untouched as it was ancient, though he knew his brother’s crew of dragon-tamers had roamed through the day before.

The corridor before them stretched forward like a hollowed spine, leading them down a single path with a short series of rooms shooting off to the sides. At the far end of the corridor, a man was still crouched by the door, dimly lit by the lantern on the ground next to him. The shadows seemed to deepen his crinkled frown, and Bill could see he was slipping something in his pocket: the other half of their tracking beacon, from the look of it, though the tomb was still too dark to get a good look. Bill didn’t know most of Charlie’s Romania crowd, but he looked like the sort to wrangle dragons, so more than likely, it was Vinn.

“Have you been sitting here in the dark?” Hestia asked, peering around before her eyes locked on the man’s densely pocketed shorts, smeared with a disconcerting red. Furrowing her brow, she added in a more searching tone, “Is that...blood?”

“Yes - to both. Brushed against something nasty in that room over there,” Vinn indicated, waving a hand at a cubbied room just behind her, the ruddy streaks evident on his skin even without proper lighting. “You squeamish?”

“No, I’m a Healer who was trying to offer the benefit of the doubt that you had the sense to clean it,” Hestia said firmly, kneeling next to him and holding out a hand. “Give it here. Bill, any luck with the door? Are there more curses? It seems like you were right to think the place is ripe with them.”

“Tombs usually are,” Bill said as he continued to examine the door, flicking his wand at various spots and watching as the area would briefly light with a subtle glow. “Running headfirst into curses. Who would have thought dragon-tamers would be short on sense?” From the ground, Charlie’s friend offered a face-splitting grin, which Bill returned, if only to try to squash down the sickness roiling in his stomach.

“You run headfirst into curses, too,” Hestia pointed out in jest as she tended to the bloodied hand. “I would say that Fleur’s coping skills are legendary, but she did throw herself into that Triwizard Tournament, so maybe it’s more like a ‘birds of a feather’ situation.”

“It probably is.” The stretched out grin softened to a more genuine smile as Bill’s thoughts flicked briefly to his wife—all devotion and fire and bravery and sweetness—but a strange, sharp sound from beyond the door yanked his thoughts back to Charlie. “The door doesn’t seem to be cursed, but am I right to guess it’s lodged in there? I don’t see a handle, either.”

“There isn’t one. It was open when we got here,” Vinn confirmed. “Should we disintegrate it?”

“Not before we know if there’s anything inside that we want to keep inside.” Holding up his wand, Bill began casting at the edge of the door, and gossamer threads puffed out in wisps, lodging into the nearly indistinguishable space between the door and its slotted frame. Once in place, they began hardening, twisting like tiny levers. “This should loosen it, hopefully, but if not, I can drill a hole to see if we should break through.”

From the floor, Hestia paused her mending to turn an incantation of her own towards the door, creating a pale barrier with the subtlest sheen. “To make sure nothing infectious slips out,” she explained. “Who knows what might have been triggered into the air, right?”

“Thinking like a cursebreaker,” Bill commented as his own spell spread down the length of the door, nudging at the edges with a soft grinding sound.

“Thinking like a Healer in proximity to a cursebreaker,” she amended, shaking her head as she stood up.

Less than a minute had passed before the door’s edge was lined with a subtle crack of blue light. That light was increasingly evident as the magical threads bundled and thrust at the door until there was enough room for them to walk through head on. In the middle of the room, Bill could see the source of the light—a thin runic box, with something just scarcely visible inside—but it was the huddled form flush against it that drew his attention, dark but still topped with a telling mop of red.

“Charlie!” Bill called into the room. 

When the curled up lump didn’t react, he strode into the room, barely even hearing Hestia’s objection that she hadn’t checked the air yet. Dropping to his knees, Bill opened his mouth to speak again, but he was startled out of the thought when Charlie swiped a hand outward with an unnerving snarl. The hand connected harshly with his shoulder, hot and sharp, and Bill stumbled back, then back a little more when a second swipe shot out. Once he was out of arm’s reach, Charlie grew still again. Before he fully curled his arm back in, Bill saw that he had what looked like a large, thinly cracked egg tucked against his chest. He brightened the light of his wand to get a better look, but he could only see his brother’s legs and messy red hair curled around it. 

Yet even that didn’t look quite right. The red hair of his legs looked darker and scalier—not just on his legs, but his arms and face, as well. 

“What in Merlin’s name…” Bill muttered, perplexed as he craned forward a little. Charlie didn’t appear hurt or ill, at least not strictly speaking, but Bill had never heard of a curse that manifested quite like that, and that unnerved him even more than the creepy growling sound had. With a painful sting, he thought that Charlie would probably think it’s a bit fantastic to sport a spread of dragon scales, curse or not, but Bill did not much like the lack of a countercurse. 

With a scowl, Bill eyed the sarcophagus propped against the back wall, resenting whatever deplorable curses the occupant must have put on that egg. If there was any relief to be found, it was probably in the fact that there wasn’t some latent animation spell cast on the corpse to further deter treasure hunters. Amusing as it usually was to have skeletons pop out of their own accord, he did not feel in the mood for it at all. The room felt overly warm, too, a sharp contrast with the cool colouring of the incandescent box. Looking in from the corridor, Bill had expected it to be cooler. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that the runes were mostly familiar, despite the ancient dialect. Dragons, darkness, fire, outpouring of danger-

“What’s wrong with him? Should I come in?” Hestia called from the other side of the door, and when Bill glanced, he saw that Vinn was peering in too.

“Is he okay?” Vinn asked. “His arms look odd.”

“Still trying to figure it out, but I’m guessing it’s some sort of curse.” Bill shifted into a crouch, watching Charlie, but his brother didn’t move at all. “Hes, have you heard about anything that triggers scales and aggression?”

“Individually, maybe, but not specifically together,” she admitted with a frown. 

“Can you-” Bill began, but the words caught immediately in his throat when he heard a rippling crack, soft and scratchy, coming from his brother. He paused, his expression pulling to a point. “Come in here. I think the egg might be hatching?”

The speed with which Vinn barrelled past Hestia was a little jarring, dropping down next to Charlie. In line with Bill’s expectation, a clawed hand launched out again to grab at his friend’s shoulder, revealing a small spiny head peeking from the top of the egg shell. Bill’s breath caught for a moment, eyes fixing on the tiny creature, but it was Hestia who shot a stunning spell to still his brother's lash.

The three stared in frozen awe as the baby dragon made a soft, squeaky, rippling sort of sound. It was pale, though Bill didn't know enough about baby dragons to say if that was normal for whatever breed this was. 

Vinn was already moving towards the dragon again, more slowly, this time.

“Try not to touch the shell,” Bill said, though he was already shifting to prop Charlie over his back the moment the dragon was scooped out.

“You probably shouldn't touch him yet either,” Hestia said, leaning down to look. 

“If contact with Charlie can spread it, I'm already out of luck. No time for a makeshift stretcher,” Bill said, looking between Hestia’s concern and Vinn’s shift between the dragon and his friend. “Let's get him out of here.”

* * *

_( -and from the shadows, we rise, peeling scales from our eyes. )_

Bright light seared through Charlie's eyelids, too sharp, even with his eyes still closed. When he let out a groan, he could hear a flurry of movement around him, and opening a single squinting eye revealed his older brother’s face.

“Well, that did not go according to plan.” Charlie grunted and rubbed a face over his hand.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Is the egg okay?” Charlie asked, trying to think back to the tomb. It all went a bit fuzzy and black, angry and desperate, hot and prickly…

“You’re a mum now!” Hestia piped in from behind Bill. “It hatched when you went all strange, scales and all.”

“I have scales?” Charlie said with an excitement that made Bill snort, but when Charlie checked his arms, they were pale and hairy as ever.

“Not anymore. That curse, enchantment, whatever it was started fading when we got you out of there. Bill thinks it might have been something cast on the shell—some sort of ancient protection spell that inflicts a really bad attitude on anyone who tries to disrupt the process.”

Charlie could see the remnant of a nasty cut on his brother's shoulder, but he didn't seem intent on saying anything about it.

“The shell showed signs of petrification. It has probably been there for centuries, unless someone has set up a very elaborate prank,” Bill added instead.

“Not sure I recognise the breed,” Vinn admitted, and Charlie looked over with a brightening expression when he saw the hatchling peeking out through a hole in a box, which he handed to Charlie without prompting. “Old magic is hard to predict. It was really strange.”

“Not sure that's what Mum meant when she begged you to give her more grandchildren,” Bill quipped as Charlie cracked open the lid just enough to draw the attention of a little snout.

Charlie snorted and threw a pillow at his brother with one hand, holding the lid with the other. Buzzing in his head had been a sensation as overwhelming as it was detached, like another person's existence jammed harshly into his head, but the last remnants of that chaotic feeling were cleared as Charlie tapped the tip of the dragon’s about with his finger. 

For all the arresting discomfort that had burst out, there had been something precious inside, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot was written for Round 7 (Movies that Killed their Franchises) of the 2018 Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Season 6. I'm writing as a Chaser (3rd Position) for the Wimbourne Wasps.
> 
> Position Prompt: (movie) Lara Croft: Tomb Raider — The Cradle of Life (2003)  
> Optional Chaser Prompt #1: (dialogue) “Well, that did not go according to plan.”  
> Optional Chaser Prompt #2: (word) Limitless  
> Optional Chaser Prompt #3: (word) Deplorable
> 
> I'm also a Slytherin in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments).
> 
> Assignment #2, Geography: Fact or Fiction, Task #9, Pyramids - Write about an ancient tomb being discovered.  
> Writing Club, Character Appreciation, Oliver \- (word) Strategy  
> Writing Club, Disney Challenge. Themes \- Friendship - Write a fic about a male/female friendship. (That stays a friendship.)  
> Writing Club, Cookie’s Crafty Corner, Beginning Knitting \- Knit Stitch: Restriction - include a character whose name starts with V.  
> Writing Club, Showtime, Book of Mormon, I Believe \- (word) Faith  
> Writing Club, Amber’s Attic, Tattoos, Compass \- Write about someone finding their way (figuratively or literally)  
> Writing Club, Count Your Buttons \- (word) Freckles, (character) Bill Weasley, (dialogue) “Is that...blood?”  
> Writing Club, Lyric Alley, This is Me \- I am not a stranger to the dark  
> Writing Club, Ami’s Audio Admirations, Top 40 Singles \- Write a fic where the main theme is not about romance.  
> Writing Club, Em’s Emporium - Sam (MissingMommy): Feature dragons in your story.  
> Writing Club, Lo’s Lowdown, Quotes for Inspiration \- Find the place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain. - Joseph Campbell  
> Writing Club, Bex’s Bazaar, Dumbo \- [Song] When I See An Elephant Fly - Write about something unusual happening.  
> Writing Club, Film Festival, White Chicks \- (colour) Red, (word) Brilliant  
> Summer Seasonal Challenges, Colour Prompts \- Gold  
> Summer Seasonal Challenges, Fire Element, Fire Prompts \- (word) Incandescent  
> Summer Seasonal Challenges, Shay’s Musical Challenge, Pippin \- Write about someone who likes adventuring  
> Summer Seasonal Challenges, Gryffindor Themed \- (character) Bill Weasley, (trait) Daring, (colour) Gold  
> Summer Seasonal Challenges, Star Chart \- Perseids Meteor Shower - (word) Rescue  
> Insane House Challenge: 402\. (word) Gossamer  
> 365 Day Challenge: 168\. (job) Curse Breaker
> 
> Note: Special thanks to isaacswolfsbane on ffnet for the dragon-shaped spark of inspiration when I was struggling to pull this together! And I don’t know that I would call it AU, but there is some plot-specific magic explored that isn’t present in canon, so it could be seen as veering off a little in that sense.


End file.
